Writing Christmas cards
by AAB
Summary: Harm and Mac have a task they "love": writing Christmas cards


_Just a bit of Christmas-fluff.__ I love Christmas time and I'm planning to post three little Christmas stories in the coming week,. _

_Disclaimer: not mine, __only playing with them _

**Writing Christmas ****cards**

The woman came out of the shop, a bag with purchases dangling from her hand, relieved it had been the last of her errands. Now she had to make it back home, fighting her way through the overcrowded mall.

She came by a Santa, surrounded by a group of children. "What do you want for Christmas?" she heard him ask a little boy. She sighed. It was the same question Little AJ had asked her only a few days ago when she had dinner at the Robert's. Her first thought had been 'a real date with your uncle Harm' but she had caught that thought before the words could escape her lips. Three years old, he wouldn't understand and worse, he innocently might reveal her secret wish to Harm.

She sighed again. This was going to be a boring weekend. Harm had been away for most of the week and was helping Bud out moving some stuff to a friends house today. No change of seeing him, she figured. With a sharp sting of guilt her thoughts went back to the previous Monday. She had snapped at Harm, for no reason at all. Not a good reason, that is. Yes, she had had a piercing headache that day and she had been disappointed he was sent TAD on a carrier for some days, but h**k, she knew it was all in the job, she had been there countless times. He just had fallen victim to her irrational reaction. She only hoped this wouldn't mean a setback on their friendship again.

And besides that, she had to write about 70 Christmas cards, a task she hated.

Seeing the windows of a deli she decided to buy some cookies, to lighten the job she thought with a derisive snort.

Coming out of the shop the back of her neck suddenly started to tingle. He was near.

The man came out of the shop, a bag with purchases dangling from his hand.

He let his eyes wander over the crowd, the same time scolding himself for even expecting to find her there. Three weeks before Christmas and the mall was packed with people doing their holiday shopping.

His thoughts went back to the previous Monday. She had snapped at him, and he couldn't think of any reason at all. After all, even though he loved to be on a carrier, it hadn't been his idea to be sent and have to cancel their "working dinner." She of all people should have known, having been in the same position over and over again. In the military you went wherever they told you to go.

And there was that nagging thought in the back of his mind: that he might be overdoing it, asking her to bounce off a case that evening after spending almost the whole weekend with her. Maybe he was pushing her to much, maybe she was just fed up with him, maybe she needed more time to herself.

He snorted. Yeah, Rabb, give her space, like you could do that, you lovesick idiot that you are.

Moving the boxes, his SUV being more suitable for the job then Bud and Harriet's small car, hadn't taken as much time as he expected. There had been plenty of time to chat and to play with his godson. Harm chuckled, recalling the antics of Little AJ. Then he sobered again, remembering how the boy had asked his godfather what he wanted for Christmas. He had stammered over an answer and finally stuck on something trivial: new strings for his guitar. 'The guts to ask your auntie Mac on a date and tell her what I feel for her' wasn't something to confess to a three-year old.

Suddenly the back of his neck started to tingle. She was near.

Standing in front of each other they both suddenly felt a bit self-conscious. Mac took the first step.

"About Monday…," she began shyly and felt him tense besides her. "I ...I'm sorry. You did nothing to deserve that. There is no excuse for my snapping at you. I just had a terrible headache and a difficult case I hoped to discuss with you that evening and I like the way …" she trailed. She knew she was rambling en should be careful not to give away too much of her feelings. "I was just disappointed about cancelling our evening and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry," she apologized again.

From beneath her eyelashes she glanced to his face and the relief she saw on it almost brought her to tears. Silently she reached out for his hand and squeezed it. She hadn't thought her reaction had effected him so much.

"Harm, you didn't really think it was your fault, did you?"

He shrugged and faced away. She squeezed his hand again, tugging it slightly to make him look at her again.

"Harm?" she insisted.

After a moment he reluctantly said "I thought … us seeing each other almost every other day … I might have been pushing you too much, maybe you were fed up with me."

Her heart winced and she pulled him in a tight hug, whispering "never, Harm, I'll never be fed up with you," against his chest.

He returned her hug, then smiled. "That's good to know. Now, let's get out of here. Or do you have more shopping to do?"

Mac shook her head.

"I have all the Christmas cards I need, just need to write them." She pulled a face.

Harm laughed out loud.

"You like writing them as much as I do," he chuckled gesturing to his own bag.

He cocked his eyebrows and wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Your place or mine?

Moments later they were on their way.

When they arrived, Mac headed for the kitchen to make tea and prepare a plate of cookies. Harm took his cards out of his bag and placed them with his address book and pen on the dining table. Then he went to the radio to find some decent music. They sat down and started writing, occasionally discussing which card to send to whom.

At the end of the afternoon there were two neat stacks with cards sitting on the table, both signed with Mac _and _Harm. A bit flabbergasted they looked at them, how could this have been happening? Glancing over to Mac, Harm tried to come up with something to lighten the situation. His breath hitched in his throat. She stared at the piles and slowly ran a finger over the names, her expression a mixture of sadness, wistfulness and longing.

"I guess that means another hour of boring Christmas card-writing," Harm finally managed to bring out.

She nodded, pulled back her hand and turned away but not in time for him to miss the single tear escaping from under her eyelid. He swallowed – this was it, this was the moment. His mouth suddenly dry, he had to moisten his lips two, three times.

"Or," he said while placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her towards him again, "we can make it the truth."

Slowly she raised her head to face him, the sadness now replaced by hope, so much hope it brought a lump to his throat and he had to swallow and moisten his lips again before he could continue. He let his hands slid down her arms to take hold of her hands.

"I wasn't completely honest to you earlier this afternoon, Sarah. Telling you the truth but not the whole truth…Yes, I delivered some boxes on Bud's request but that was nowhere near that mall. I had to do some shopping but I could have gone to any mall. Harriet told me you were planning to run errands. I knew you frequent that mall and I went there on the odd change …" He looked her into the eyes to see if she understood. When she nodded he continued.

"And I didn't tell you I stall at the office, simply in order to finish work at the same time as you, so I am able to usher you out of the building, to steal a few minutes extra with you in the elevator and walking you to your car." Mac got a soft smile on her face, knowing how much she enjoyed those moments with just the two of them.

"I didn't tell you how I look at each case, not only to decide my tactic but also to see if I can use it to talk you into an evening of 'bouncing off'". Mac chuckled, she had been doing the same with her cases.

"I didn't tell you that I scrutinize the paper each week, to see if there is anything, a show, a exhibition I can take you to, for a weekend without seeing you is definitely 60 hours too long."

Again Mac smiled, she had never seen so much exhibitions and galleries as the last months although she wouldn't have mind if it had been twice as many, as long as it was with him. She squeezed his hands encouragingly.

"And I didn't tell you that when little AJ asked me this week what I wanted Santa to bring me, I only could think of 'the guts to ask auntie Mac on a date…'" he dipped his head to kiss her

knuckles, "… and tell her how much I love her."

Slowly Mac stood up, took the one step which still separated her from him and lowered herself onto his lap. Her arms slid around his neck, while his encircled her waist.

"When Little AJ asked me the same question, all I wanted was 'a real date with uncle Harm'" she whispered, before letting her lips touch his.

Much later they were sitting on the couch, Mac's head tucked under his chin, his fingers tracing patterns on her back. Suddenly she felt him chuckle and she raised her head to look at him, a question in her eyes.

"I guess we better talk to the Admiral thirst thing Monday morning, before he gets the mail."

The end


End file.
